unforeseen circumstances
by RainyDayReading
Summary: He was broken, and so was she. She offered him hope, so he gave her a promise. Or, a Drastoria soulmate!AU in which two lost souls try to put their lives back together.


**unforeseen circumstances**

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 _A/N: Prompts will be included at the end, so as not to spoil anything :)_

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I pulled up in front of the house, the tires of my van crunching on the gravel. I quickly shut off the engine and gazed up at the mansion through the dark windows of the car.

It was one of the largest houses I had ever seen, and no lights were on behind the filmy curtains covering the front windows. Embedded into the brick exterior were multiple doors- I had discovered them when I drove by that morning to scout the place out.

The plan was simple- sneak in through the back, grab any valuables, and go. Then, when the owner of the house returned from wherever they were staying for winter vacation- no doubt some high-class beach resort on the other side of the world- I would be long gone.

I glanced briefly down at the tattoo on my wrist- the crescent-shaped soulmate tattoo that I had been born with. I often thought about my soulmate, the one other person in the world with the same tattoo as me. If I ever met her, would she be disappointed in me? Disappointed and upset that her soulmate turned out to be a no-good thief?

I sighed and tugged the sleeve of my black jacket over my wrist, successfully hiding the tattoo. Bad person or not, there wasn't much I could do about it- I needed to earn money _somehow_ , and it's not like anybody would hire me.

Not when my name was Draco _Malfoy_ and everyone knew what the Malfoy name meant.

Gritting my teeth, I shoved open the door of the beat-up green van and hopped out. My boots made prints in the layer of powdery snow dusting the sidewalk, and my eyes watered at the gusts of cold wind slapping against my face.

Sticking my bare hands into the pockets of my jacket to keep warm, I shuffled across the sidewalk and up the stone path that led to the front entrance of the house. The painted white door was large and grand, with a brass knocker and tall marble columns supporting the roof on either side of it.

Sticking close to the brick walls so I was hidden by the shadows, I crept around the side of the house and made my way towards the backmost wall, where I knew the back door would be.

The trudge through the snow with the wind lashing at my blond hair, effectively mussing it up, felt much longer than it probably was. Finally, though, I reached the set of narrow stone steps leading down towards the small back entrance of the house. The door at the end of the steps was also painted white, and there was a grayish curtain covering the darkened windows.

Just as I started to descend down the steps, a light behind the curtains flicked on.

I froze in place, staring at the now-lit windows. My heart hammered, leaping into my throat. Was it… was it possible that there was someone home?

But it couldn't be. I had checked out the house beforehand, and it seemed quiet and empty.

"The lights must be set on a timer or something," I muttered to myself. "Yes, that must be it."

I took another step down, warily eyeing the door.

Then another step, and another.

When I finally reached the foot of the stone stairs, I put my hand on the doorknob, jiggling it around.

Locked. Not that I had expected anything different.

It was just then that I remembered I had left the crowbar in the car. I cursed under my breath. There was no way I was walking all the way back around the house just to _get_ it. Instead, I dug through the pockets of my jacket, pulling out the next best thing- a slightly oversized safety pin.

Shrugging, I bent down slightly and worked the pin into the lock on the doorknob. It may have seemed cliche, but safety pins were underrated. Even with the most modern, high-tech homes, they always did the job.

To my satisfaction, the knob clicked twice and the door swung open.

I stepped into the house as quickly as possible, softly shutting the door behind me. I was standing in a short hallway made of marble. To my right was a coat rack, stacked with sweaters, and to my left was a staircase that wound up and out of sight. The ceiling lights were glowing brightly, but, to my relief, the hallway was empty and silent.

Instead of going up the stairs, I decided to move forward, taking a few steps down the hallway. My boots squeaked loudly, splattering droplets of melted snow across the wooden floorboards.

I had to admit, seeing the murky footprints on the ground made me grimace. Growing up, I had always been instructed to take my shoes off at the door in order to keep our family's house pristine; even though I no longer lived with my parents anymore, the habit was a hard one to break.

I shook my head briefly; now was not the time to reminisce about childhood and worry about my shoes. I had a job to do.

I glanced up, away from the floor, and nearly had a heart attack.

Because there was a woman standing in front of me, and she was pointing a gun directly at my head.

My hands flew up in surrender, the pin clattering out of my fingers and onto the ground.

"Who are you," she ground out through clenched teeth. It wasn't a question but a statement; her blue-green eyes were narrowed in fury.

With a shock, I realized that she was covered in blood. Her wild dark hair, framing her slender face, was streaked with red, as was her fair skin and her splattered jeans and white shirt.

"Look," I gasped out, trying to move as little as possible, "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize that you were already robbing this house. I'll leave. Just- Just put the gun down."

The woman snorted. Even though she was a full head shorter than me, she was about ten times as terrifying, and she seemed pretty confident on how to use the gun in her hands. "I'm no robber. This is _my_ house."

My eyes widened even further. This was an entirely new level of stupidity for me- breaking into the mansion of a serial killer?

"Please don't kill me," I breathed out. "I have- I have to live, okay?"

Because if I died, too… then Mother would have nobody.

Then the woman froze, her mouth dropping slightly to form a perfect _O._

"What's that," she whispered, "on your wrist?"

I glanced at my wrist. The sleeve of my jacket had slipped down, exposing the crescent burned into my flesh.

The woman pulled one hand off her gun and held it up near her face.

My stomach dropped as I saw the matching tattoo she bore.

"Soulmates?" I choked out, my voice cracking.

Slowly, she lowered her gun entirely, letting it drop limply to her side. She seemed drained, now- no longer angry, but weary and exhausted. Dark circles framed her eyes, and she was much too thin to be healthy.

I brought my hands back down to my sides, feeling the blood rush back to my fingertips.

She tilted her head slightly to one side, studying me. "So my soulmate's a thief," she mumbled to herself, but she didn't sound upset- it was merely an observation.

"And mine's a murderer," I added under my breath.

Unfortunately, she heard me, and her fingers tightened around her gun. I flinched slightly.

Then her grip slackened once more. "You think I'm a murderer?"

I frowned at her. "You're covered in blood and you have a gun."

She let out a dry, humorless laugh. "It's paint, not blood."

I blinked. "Oh."

Then she sighed. "Should we… talk?"

"Probably," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck. My fingers were still tingling from the cold outdoors.

The woman gestured for me to follow her down the hallway. We entered a new room; this one was lined with windows that allowed the starlight to pour in and illuminate the tiled floor. When the woman flicked on the lights, I saw that the painted white walls were covered in paintings- paintings of all shapes and sizes depicting beautiful splashes of color and light. In the center of the room, in front of a tall wooden stool, was a canvas standing atop a wooden stand.

I inhaled sharply as I gazed at the half-finished work of art. It was a sunflower, its golden petals rich and full. Behind it was a swirl of amber lights, but the stem still hadn't been drawn in- it made it seem as if the flower was floating above an infinite pool of melted glass.

"You painted that?" I murmured. Then my gaze wandered across the rest of the canvases on the walls. "You painted _all_ of these?"

The woman hummed in confirmation.

I continued studying the paintings, awed. Each one, I noticed, showed a different flower- tulips dripping in scarlet, roses wreathed in shadows…

"I like flowers," the woman said with a small shrug. She was still holding her gun, but her finger was safely off the trigger.

She plopped herself down cross-legged on the ground, so I did the same, sitting across from her.

She chewed on her lower lip before sticking out her hand. "Astoria Greengrass."

I shook it. "Draco Malfoy."

Her aqua eyes narrowed, just as I thought they wood. "Malfoy…" she muttered to herself. Then she scooted back an inch. "Malfoy as in… any relation to Lucius Malfoy?"

I grimaced and nodded. Curse my father for tainting our family name.

"So," the woman- Astoria- said. "Were you…"

She trailed off, as if she didn't know what exactly she wanted to ask.

"I wasn't involved with my father's… _operation,"_ I stated firmly. "I didn't help him kill any of those people. I'm nothing like him."

"So you're just a _regular_ thief," Astoria said slowly, "not a mass murderer."

I swallowed hard. "I'm not a thief."

She raised her eyebrows.

"I mean," I faltered, "I _wasn't_ a thief. I am now. I'm not-" I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm not a bad person, okay? But now that my father is in jail and our family fortune is gone, I- my mother has cancer. I need to pay the hospital bills somehow."

Her gaze softened, just a little. "I can relate to _that_ feeling."

"You have a sickness in your family?"

"It was two years ago," Astoria whispered, glancing down at the gun in her lap. "My older sister. She… she's dead now."

 _Oh_.

I could feel tears start to burn in the corners of my eyes. I wanted to say _I'm sorry,_ but the words stuck in my throat. _Sorry_ wouldn't bring her sister back to life. So I didn't say anything at all.

Astoria inhaled shakily, glancing up at me. Her eyes were damp. "Your father did awful things," she whispered.

"As if I need a reminder," I shot back, my voice cracking.

She just shook her head. "Not what I meant." She carefully placed a trembling hand over her heart. "What do you do," she said, tears trickling down her face, "when there's nothing but pain left inside you?"

The look in her eyes, so utterly lost, made something snap inside my already shattered heart. Why was she asking _me?_ My life, like hers, was already falling apart. I had no answers.

But I had to say _something_.

"You can't move on if you're still in the past," I murmured. "Your sister… I'm sure she was an amazing person."

Astoria gave me a watery smile. "The best there ever was," she nodded. She gestured around the room with an arm. "We used to live here together, you know. Inherited our parents' money and we lived here together. It-" her lips trembled. "It's terrible living here now."

"So why don't you just… leave?" I asked in a low voice.

"And go where?" she demanded. "This is all I have. I have my paintings and this house, and _that's it."_

I suddenly had the urge to help her. But who was I to give her advice? I came from a family of crooks, and I was a criminal myself.

I stared at the half-finished sunflower on the canvas.

"Move out," I mumbled.

Astoria just looked at me.

"Sell the house, if that makes you feel better," I told her, "and just… move. Buy a small place where you can paint, if you want to. Don't live in the remains of a broken life if you can build a new one."

She was silent.

"What about you?" she asked finally.

"What _about_ me?"

"We're soulmates," she told me firmly. "We're supposed to help each other. But… you're a stranger. I don't even know you."

I shrugged halfheartedly. "I'll be fine. Just… take care of yourself."

"Can I… can I help pay for your mother's treatment?"

I shook my head. "It's fine. I don't need charity, really. I'm doing all right on my own."

She scoffed. "You're a _thief_. I have money, and you don't. It's not charity. I just… I don't want you to have to go through the same thing I went through. I want your mother to live."

I hesitated for a long, long moment.

"I'll pay you back," I said after a few minutes of silence. "I'll pay you back someday."

Astoria offered me a small smile. "Maybe, by then, we'll both have our lives pulled together. And then we could meet up again."

I smiled back at her. "I'd… I'd like that."

Without warning, she jumped to her feet, letting her gun slide to the ground. I stood as well, slightly puzzled.

"Here," she said, walking over to the stand in the center of the room and pulling the sunflower canvas off of it.

She turned around and held it out to me.

I shot her a confused glance. "But it's not even finished yet."

"No. But it will be. Someday. And when your mother is fully healthy and I'm living in a tiny house in the middle of nowhere, we'll go out for coffee or something. And talk. And you'll give this back to me, and I'll finish it."

And that's when I realized what she was offering me. In her hands, in the form of a half-finished sunflower painting, she held hope.

Hope, and a promise.

A promise for a future that wasn't a mess.

It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Now that I'd finally met my soulmate and knew who she was, now that I'd have a way to help Mother and earn back time to clear my name…

It was liberating.

I took the painting out of Astoria's hands and thanked her.

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 _HPFC_

 _Old Fanfiction Tropes Competition - Soulmate AU - "Everyone has a predestined perfect romantic partner."_

 _Ultimate Writer Challenge - "Write an AU of your choice." - 3/3 complete_

 _Shay's Epic Board Game Challenge - We the People - "Write about a life-changing event."_

 _Hogwarts_

 _Assignment #12 - Muggle History #2 - "Write about someone breaking the law."_

 _Writing Club - Sophie's Character Appreciation (Draco Malfoy) - "13. (character) Astoria Greengrass."_

 _Writing Club - Bex's Disney Challenge - "Songs ; For the First Time in Forever ; Write about experiencing a sense of freedom the character hasn't had before."_

 _Writing Club - Sammy's Creature Feature - "7. Dementor - (AU) soulmate."_

 _Writing Club - Lizzy's Showtime - "2. Take What You Get - (dialogue) 'You can't move on if you're still in the past.'"_

 _Writing Club - Amber's Attic - "5. Last Sad Song: Write about someone learning to rise above their sadness."_

 _Writing Club - Lizzy's Count Your Buttons - "(AU) Soulmate ; (Object) Sunflower."_

 _Writing Club - Lizzy's Lyric Alley - "4. Of having hope in this insanity."_

 _Writing Club - Ami's Audio Admirations - "11. 5.0 It's really good. Fact. - Write about someone loving something/someone."_

 _Writing Club - Em's Emporium - "Pairings ; Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass ; Write about building something from scratch."_

 _Writing Club - Lo's Lowdown - "Character-Based Prompts ; 5. Hikaru Sulu - Write about someone who loves plants."_

 _Summer Seasonal Challenges - Colour Prompts - "Blue-green."_

 _Summer Seasonal Challenges - Birthstones - "Sapphire - (dialogue) 'What do you do when there's nothing but pain left inside of you?'"_

 _Summer Seasonal Challenges - Shay's Musical Challenge - "Bandstand ; Write about caring for someone who lost a loved one."_

 _Summer Seasonal Challenges - Star Chart - "July 12 2018 ; Mercury at Greatest Eastern Elongation ; thief!AU."_

 _Summer Seasonal Challenges - Gryffindor-Themed - "Traits: Confident ; Other Prompts: (colour) gold."_

 _QLFC Season 6_

 _Seeker: Appleby Arrows - Round 3 (90s Nostalgia) - "Home Alone."_

 _The Golden Snitch_

 _Centaurus, Aurora - Through the Universe Challenge - "64. Event Horizon - (feeling) utterly lost."_

 _Room of Requirement_

 _Broaden Your Romance Horizons Challenge - OTP - "Write about your OTP."_

 _Pairing Marathon Challenge - Canon Couples - "16. Draco/Astoria."_

 _Wand Wood Category Challenge - Hawthorn - "Write about Draco Malfoy."_

 _The Ultimate Hogwarts House Competition - Ravenclaw - "294. (style) First Person."_


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